Solitary no More?
by Scarlet Lady
Summary: Remy makes it one step closer to home. Number six in the series.


Solitary No More?  
  
  
  
I wanna report a crime! I *stole* these characters! They actually belong to Marvel. Somebody please turn me in, so I can tell all the reporters that are just sure to be outside the courtroom my side of the story. I'm convinced that if Marvel would just *listen* to me, I'd solve all their problems.  
  
However, that's never gonna happen. And so, I'm forced to say that until it does, I'm not making any money off of these stories, and I suppose that someday I'll have to give the characters back. But not today.  
  
So – I hear tell I have a bunch of people extraordinarily angry with me for not writing another story sooner. Um….sorry? I have no excuse, I'm a paltry excuse for an author, please feel free to vent other sentiments as necessary. The only pitiful justification I can offer is that although I started writing this story months ago, I couldn't get it right. It never got to where *I'd* be happy reading it again, so I chucked it all and started over. Many times. I'm still not convinced that I hit the notes I wanted, but I'm feeling way too guilty about all the nice things people have said about their hopes for my next story.  
  
I have one other "must be mentioned", and that is Gyre. Thanks for making this so much better than it otherwise might have been. If my appreciation isn't enough, there's beer in the fridge (  
  
For those who haven't read my other stories, what on earth are you doing? You can't get there from here.  
  
Anyways, I'm rambling, and I suppose you'd much rather get to the story, wouldn't you? Actually, so would I. And so –  
  
  
  
Logan looked with surpassing frustration at Remy, then sighed and thunked his head on the table. "Kid, talkin' to you is startin' to feel like catchin' leaves in November. Fun, but completely pointless." His voice was slightly muffled the wood his forehead was attempting to make space in. He gave up the effort and shoved his chair back. Needing to move, he began prowling around inside the limits of the four small walls, stepping over the snoozing Chat with every fifth stride.  
  
Remy sat very still in his chair, and tried to picture himself simply walking across the lawn, striding up to the door, and announcing his return. *Like they'd care*, he thought. No, that wasn't right. He was painting them ugly in his attempt to justify his own behavior, which was little better than childish. He knew it, he just didn't know how to stop it.  
  
"Logan, it's not dat I don' wan' to go back, I jus' don' know how. I got not'ing dey need, an' de t'ought of dealin' wit dem from dat position…scares me." The soft traces of depression and fear mixed with the longing in his husky voice, and made Logan stop mid-stride and turn back to the table. Crossing the small space to stand behind Remy, he rested a caring hand on the seated man's shoulder.  
  
"Kid, I been tellin' you for the past two weeks all ya got to do is walk in the dang door, and you'll see how much they missed you. Hell, Cyke's been all over my ass about 'Did I find ya' this and 'What'd he say' that. Problem here is you don't believe me, and I promised I wouldn't grab you by the collar and drag you with me to prove it like I want to. Do you really want to hide forever, Cajun?"  
  
Logan's gentle tone still surprised Remy on the odd occassions that it showed itself. He responded every time by involuntarily opening his shields to warm himself with the glow. Bit by bit, Logan's patience and understanding were helping to prop him up when it felt like the world was spinning hard enough to dump him on his butt. He shook his head in amusement at the thought of describing Logan as "patient and understanding". *Ain' nobody nowhere ever gon' believe dat one*, he thought with a reluctant mental grin, but the conversational mood swiftly damped the faint amusement.  
  
For these last weeks, his moods had been veering back and forth between anticipation, hopelessness, and playing among the rainbow in between. Logan's prodding wasn't doing anything to help straighten the muddle.  
  
"I'm hearin' you, Logan, but dat's not changing de facts. What I got to offer, hehn? I'm not Gambit any more. I ain' never gonna be again. Dat won' change jus' because dey t'ink maybe dey missed me. I got no place wit' dem. An' showin' up like I am now…dey maybe feel some sorry for me, an' I don' need dat. I don' wan' dat. I don' know what to do wit' myself, so how can dey? I'm a mutant, an' my life been shaped by dat reality. I don' fit wit' normal people. But I can' use my powers, either, which means I don' fit wit' de mutants. I show up lookin' like dis, I feel like an obligation, not a … well, whatever I was."  
  
"The word's friend, Cajun. And I still think you're wrong. You got a place, we just ain't found it yet, is all".  
  
"We?"  
  
"You got a problem with that, LeBeau?" The typical Logan growl was firmly back in place, making Remy's lips twitch.  
  
"Non, no problem, cher. I know I'm actin' like I don' wan' to go back, when bot' you an' I know better, but I…I feel so damn useless, an' I hate it!"  
  
"Ah, put a sock in it, Cajun. That ain't the most of it, or even the half. You're scared spitless to see the team again. We been tap- dancing round this for weeks, and I'm done. You couldn't care less about a place with the team. You want it, sure, but you want your family more, and you don't think you can have it. That's what's at the bottom of all this, and that's what's got you runnin' scared. You think you've got nothing to offer your family, and that's why you're hiding here. And the capper on the whole mess is Rogue.  
  
Remy rolled his shoulders as tension painfully tightened his muscles. "All right, so maybe you're not so wrong bout dat. She didn' wan' what I could offer before, an' now I got less. So yeah, dat's makin' it...harder den I t'ought. Still don' change de facts, eh? Only way I get to see her will be stay wit' de team, and how's dat gonna happen wit'out I got some'ting to offer? An' it's jus' de team, not my fam'ly. Fam'ly means dey care even when maybe dey don' like you much. Ain' part of family, non, cher." Remy's tone gave hints of the bitterness he felt. Maybe for a time he'd wanted to be thought of as part of more than just a team, but no sir, he didn't need it now. Now he just wanted…  
  
Logan's impatience drained away, and he slid back into the chair. "Well, hell, Cajun. I've been talking till I'm blue in the face. I understand what you're saying about how you feel, but I just can't agree with what you think the team will feel. But you've come this far. For all your digging in your heels now, you wanted to come back. Leaving Rogue out of this for now, you think you'd go back if you felt you were dealing from a position of strength?"  
  
"Yeah, guess dat would do it, cher. Right now I feel like a beggar, an' what's left of my pride don' like it, much. "  
  
*No more, Cajun-Remy. You go home!* Anger sliced into the conversation like a cut from the sharpest of knives.  
  
Both Logan and Remy snapped their gaze to Chat, who'd woken when the sunshine moved away from his block of the floor. He'd decided to join the conversation when he realized his Remy was only a couple of steps from giving up. Again.  
  
*Not happy here, happy there, you go home!* Chat loved his Remy, but he could be…difficult. All Chat wanted to do was Help, but Remy wasn't making it easy. And Chat had just run out of nice.  
  
Remy's frustration abruptly boiled over, as his emotions were prone to do these last few years. "Fine. I go. Jus' tell me how de hell I get to stay, hehn? I just walk up to de door, say 'Hello, I'm back. Need de floor swept?'" He moved to loom over Chat. " 'Cause dat's 'bout all I can do for de team dese days." He held up is heavily scarred hands to illustrate his point. "Dese t'ings ain' no help to nobody!" His face was flushed with anger, and frame was rigid as he tried to battle his feelings back down to a manageable level. He was working hard not to completely lose it. "Merde." On the brink of yielding the fight, he turned and escaped the cabin, slamming the door on the way.  
  
"Well, that went well, don'tcha think?" Logan turned to look at Chat.  
  
*No.* Chat stomped his way to the door, then looked over his shoulder at Logan. *Open.* His eyebrows lowered when Logan didn't immediately move to comply. *Open now!*  
  
Logan bristled in return and narrowed his eyes at Chat's tone, but opened the door. "You get mad at the Cajun if you want, but don't forget I got a temper of my own, and I ain't shy about it."  
  
_and don't we all know it_ Chat thought to himself. One quick check of the area showed him which way Remy had gone, and he marched off after him, growling angrily.  
  
--  
  
Chat saw Remy come into view, and his remaining restraint fled. *Cajun-Remy stop there now!* Chat didn't trust himself enough to start running, instead stalking forward, rigidly controlling each deliberate pace.  
  
Remy scowled, but stopped, and turned to face him. "What, you got to take Logan's place as my own personal nag, eh Monsieur Chat? I don' got enough goin' on already?" Remy was not in any mood to be lectured. Once his emotions got the upper hand, the thinking, reasoning part of his mind was hard to reach. All he wanted was to be left alone to try to regain his equilibrium.  
  
*Not nag, you listen! You go home, now!*  
  
"No! Ain' gon' let no damn dog gonna push me into nothin'! I ain' goin' yet. I made 'em shove me out de door, an' I wan' to get…" Remy knew he was behaving badly, but couldn't seem to stop himself, becoming even further agitated.  
  
Chat absorbed that painful blow, and retaliated. *Dieu, you not smart, Cajun-Remy* Chat burst in. The tone in his voice told Remy that Chat thought he was far from the brightest bulb around. There was passion there, and astringent sarcasm. Remy said nothing, letting him continue.  
  
*This not all you,* he went on. "Not all spins with Cajun-Remy at middle! Not always person makes all go wrong!* He turned, then, and began walking, needing to move. Remy stood there, confused and frustrated, hearing Chat's angry footsteps, and gave himself moment before deciding to follow.  
  
"So, cher, " he said to the back of Chat's head, "if it's not my fault, den whose fault is it?"  
  
*Hehn?* Chat stopped abruptly, almost causing Remy to run into him. When Chat turned, they were only inches apart. *Whose fault what?*  
  
"All of it!" Remy replied, irritated with this questioning, bewildered by his sudden attitude change.  
  
*Why have must be one fault?* Chat asked.  
  
"B'cause dat's de way it works!" Remy came back, exasperation dripping from his tone.  
  
*So is okay-fine, Cajun Remy!* Chat somehow gave the impression of throwing his arms into the air for emphasis. *All your fault. All bad things your fault. Everybody not like you. Everybody blame you!* He reared up and pushed his paws hard against Remy's shoulders. *This make Cajun-Remy happy now to know?*  
  
"YES!" Remy yelled back, unable to stop his voice from choking up, and his face from getting hot. "NO!" he yelled again. "Dieu, I don't know!"  
  
*What don't know, Remy?* Relentlessly, Chat started the questions again. *You want blamed, yes? Want all to hate you for ruining things? Okay-fine! We hate you! Is what you want to hear? This make you happy?* Chat was practically shouting, pushing harder against Remy with every word.  
  
"NO!" Remy shouted back, struggling to back away from the verbal and physical punishment.  
  
*Then what Cajun-Remy want?*  
  
"I DON' KNOW, DAMMIT!" he put everything he had into one final tug. Remy didn't know whether he actually got free or if Chat just let him go. Either way, he found himself suddenly several feet away.  
  
Silence descended over them. The only sound was the heavy panting of oversensitized emotions.  
  
"You really hate me, Chat?" Remy quietly asked, feeling everything abruptly drain away, leaving him to slump against the nearest tree, and sag down to sit at it's base, too drained to be anything but unhappy. The misery that seemed to be the bedrock his life was built on rumbled in small, satisfied aftershocks, having collapsed yet another attempt at reconstruction.  
  
Chat didn't answer right away. The seconds ticked by, and time seemed again to stretch out. The longer he took to answer, the more difficult it became to even pull air into his lungs. Remy couldn't tell if it was truly taking him a long time, or if his own perceptions were being skewed by his emotions. Finally, his head fell, and his eyes closed.  
  
*No, Cajun-Remy,* he whispered the words. *Don't hate you.* Chat looked up at him a moment later.  
  
*But are days Chat could," he continued. Remy flinched, and bowed his head further.  
  
"Chat," he started, but was interrupted again.  
  
*Not now, Cajun-Remy,* he said softly. *Now you go home. I Help.*  
  
"Chat, 'tite, didn' mean dat crack 'bout you bein' jus' a dog." Remy sat as if his next step would be to ooze into a puddle of unhappiness at the bottom of the tree he was sitting against. "I know I don' make de bes' frien', but I didn' mean dat. I jus'…I'm sorry, Chat." Remy held out a hand to Chat, hoping Chat wasn't angry enough to ignore it.  
  
*Cajun-Remy, sorry is okay. Home is best. Sorry not happen when home. Is better feel when not sorry, hehn?* Chat closed the distance between them and ducked his head into Remy's hand, letting him know that he forgave him.  
  
Remy rested his hand on Chat's neck, his scarred fingers gently rubbing, soothing himself with the feel of Chat's fur.  
  
"Chat, I know I don' make sense mos' times. I know wantin' somt'ing dis bad jus' ain' smart. So I either gotta quit wantin', or fin' a way to make it happen, and right now, bot' t'ings seem … impossible. Ain' no way in Hades I'm ever gon' quit wanting to be part of de team. To be surrounded by dat kind of feeling…like I belong somewhere…it was like not'ing I ever had before. An' Rogue… may as well tell me to quit breathin'. De two of us…fit. Bein' wit' her was absolutely knowin' dat together we made more dan each alone. Leas', I felt dat way. Like dere was not'ing I couldn' do, because she was wit' me." Discussing Rogue right now was painful for his too sensitive emotions, so he returned to his original point.  
  
"So de only ot'er option is find a way to make it happen." Remy stopped, swallowing hard. He leaned his head back against the tree. "S'easy to say, non? Jus' say it, like it's gon' make it happen all by itself. Only it don' work dat way. I show up lookin' like dis, an' what's gon' happen, Chat? I know Logan says different, but you an' me know dat whatever happens is gon' be because dey feel sorry for me. An dat means if dey let me stay, it won' be 'cause I belong, but because dey know I got nowhere else to go. Stayin' wit' de team like dat…I couldn', pup. Jus' couldn'. Dieu. Don' know what to do, Chat."  
  
*My Cajun-Remy wants stay because then feels better?*  
  
"Non…yeah, but non. Dat's part of it. It's like dere I'm warm, out here it's cold. But it's more, too. It's hard to describe, but when I could do de right t'ing, an' see it made a difference, it helped fill de lonely places. Dere's lots of nights when I'd head up to de roof an' jus' sit. I'd get to feeling like I didn' belong inside my own head, an' feelin' like I had to go somewhere, but had nowhere I wanted to go. So I'd go up on de roof, an' t'ink about t'ings. Sometimes dat only made de problem worse, an' I'd start feelin' all over miserable. But den I t'ink about all de t'ings I'm finally doin' right, and I feel better. Bein' part of de team was like I was doin' somet'ing for somebody other den Remy Lebeau." Remy felt a small smile playing over his face. "Did you know dat at de end of a mission, I'd look for Rogue's eyes? Could always tell when I did somet'ing right, because her eyes'd sparkle. Used to do silly stuff jus' to make her eyes shine dat way. But den she found out 'bout t'ings from de past, an' I knew she wasn' ever gon' look at me like dat again. So it was time to leave.  
  
"I know if I go back, she's not gon' want to be aroun' me, but I figure dere's enough goin' on dat maybe dere's some t'ings dat wouldn' take de whole team, an maybe me an' Logan….." Remy's voice slid into silence as he realized he was talking as if he were the old Gambit, with a full arsenal of abilities to draw from. "Merde." His depression returned, and he consciously smacked his head against the tree, trying to knock sense into himself. "Dat's de ot'er problem, Chat. What de hell reason I got to t'ink dey would offer a real place on de team?"  
  
*Maybe offer because I Help?* Chat's voice was carefully noncommital.  
  
"Help what, 'tite?"  
  
*Help you help.*  
  
"Don' understan', pup. Help how?"  
  
*I Help! Cajun-Remy thinks he dreams home?* Indignation was written plainly on Chat's expressive face, only to be lost on Remy, who couldn't see it.  
  
"Dieu! You sayin' it's not a dream? I was really dere?"  
  
*I Help. You need, I Help. Cajun-Remy already found home, but I Help belong.* Chat paused, and heaved a great sigh as he finally confessed, *Was bad dog, Remy. I wanted much to play, and not be careful. Logan was hurt, and you got sad. But you keep wanting here to be, so I Help.*  
  
Remy was keeping his emotions tightly restrained, afraid to think what he was hearing was true.  
  
"Chat…you de one makin' me dream?"  
  
No Cajun-Remy, no dreams. You want be home, I Help. You want play with Logan, I Help. You want Stormy not to cry, I Help. You want to make difference again, Cajun-Remy, my Remy, I Help. When Chat only puppy, he chose you, Cajun-Remy. Maybe were lots of others, but Chat chose you. Can still Help others some, but I always Help you more best, because Chat loves you more best. Maybe you not want feel team-family, but you always be Chat-family. Always, Cajun-Remy.* Chat cuddled closer to Remy, trying to make him feel all the love Chat had for him.  
  
Remy sat there, in complete, dumbfounded amazement. So many questions were piling up, he didn't know what to ask first. All he could coherently think, all he could realize, was that Chat had just given him the keys to the padlocked door between himself, and his dreams. "Chat – please, cher, please make dis what I t'ink you're sayin'. You can Help Remy be someplace else, Help Remy be de way I use' to be? Not damaged, like now?"  
  
*Same no. I Help you be where you most should be, but need someone you likelovetrust to tie leash to. Logan easiest for me to start with, you trust him better best than all. Chat sorry much that first time you play with Logan, Chat let you burn him. Not understand then how your tricks all knotted up. Can most maybe play better if you Help too.*  
  
"So you sayin' dat you can anchor me to someone dat I know? Sometimes, when I t'ought I was dreamin' I t'ought I was actually part of de person in my dreams. Dat firs' dream, wit' Logan, we were in de Danger Room wit' Bobby. You took me dere? Was I act'lly part of Logan, or was it some'ting else?"  
  
*Cajun-Remy have much many tricks. You have one trick where you not you any more. Look like big browny cloud, but not seeable. I put leash on you, tie you to person. You sometimes tangle yourself into them if you want. But is you want, not me make.*  
  
"So I can mix my powers wit' de person you anchor me to? Dieu, All dis time, t'ought dey were jus' dreams. You sayin' I can control my powers t'rough someone else? On purpose, wit' me knowin' what I'm doin'? Chat…you sayin' dis right? I blend in wit' someone, you sayin' I can see again?" Remy had begun shaking, a fine tremor seizing his hands.  
  
*You understand more good if I Help now, Cajun-Remy? I not like you feeling this way. When angry, you want to hit. When sad, you want to hide. When scared, you want to run. But when happy, you want to help. You feeling this more now. Not scared so much.*  
  
"Cher – you jus'….Chat, I…pup…" Overwhelmed at what he understood Chat was offering, all he could do was lower his head cry. He could go home. Finally, he could go home. 


End file.
